Fianceed!!!

Attention world wide webers, I have been decisively plucked out of, never to reenter, the dating category and plunged into the engaged category. I figured posting the story on the blog was the best way to share it and pictures. Fortunately, my charming, well-spoken fiancee, Andrew Haile, has already chronicled the epic surprise visit and proposal so all I have to do is slip in my few comments and spruce it up with pictures. I think this partnership's going to work out just fine :)
Here's the full scoop (from Andrew's perspective), minus the spit-swapping and other TMI sorts of things:

THE BACKGROUND
So, as many of you may already know, I have been dating this girl, Rene Marshall, since the summer of 2005 when we met at camp and decided, after some awkward salsa dancing and capsized sailboats, that we liked each other. We have dated long distance throughout much of our relationship-- me in Paris, Rene in the States; Rene hiking the Appalachian Trail, me at Middlebury; Rene being in Nigeria, me being in Guinea. Despite the separation, however, we've continued to grow closer and closer over these past three years.
After rendezvousing with Rene in Northern Ireland last year, I felt a real peace about the idea of marriage in a way that I hadn't ever felt before. I began praying about proposing and felt God giving me the green light. Over Christmas, I asked her folks if it was cool, and they both said to "go get 'em slugger." Well, not in as many words, but they gave their blessing. So I decided to start planning a ridiculously cool, amazingly romantic, stunning surprise proposal trip to Nigeria, where Rene was and is working as a Youth Camp Coordinator for Serving in Mission (SIM).

THE PREPARATION
Rene's little sister, Kari, happens to be working in Nigeria as well. The same city and everything. How helpful! I had been thinking, for a long time, of surprising Rene with a proposal in a way that was creative, fun, and communicated to her just how special she was. Guitars, campfires, scandalously romantic poems came to mind. So, after I got back from my X-mas trip to the States, I emailed Kari and asked her if, indeed, it was possible to come to Nigeria without Rene knowing it and propose. She said, "go get 'em slugger." Well, not in as many words, but she said she could help make it work. So we got to work with the nitty-gritties: visas, plane tickets, dates, rides from airports, places to stay, etc. We worked it out so that Rene-- wonderful, oblivious Rene-- would think that I was coming to visit at the end of May, when, in reality, I was actually coming to visit on April 21st. And Kari-- my inside woman-- made it all happen on the Nigeria end, with help from other folks as well. I was to show up in Abuja early on the 21st, be taken to the camp where Rene was working, and propose, in stunningly unforgettable fashion.
So-- plane ticket bought, rides arranged, passport in hand, butterflies in stomach, I boarded the plane from Guinea to Nigeria and prayed for the best.

THE PROPOSAL
The flight from Conakry to Lagos was four hours late. Thus, I got into Lagos-- the second most dangerous city in the world for clueless white dudes, studies show-- at midnight. I was terrified. Kari had said that she had set up a person to meet me at the airport and put me up for the night, but of course, this was Africa-- why would anything go "according to plan?" Silly western notions. So if Plan A didn't come off, I was planning on holding up my wallet and passport, writing "ROB ME" on my forehead in permanent marker, skipping out the airport singing "It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" and hoping for the best. Yet, thanks to my wonderful planners, I got to stick to Plan A and was met by a Nigerian man named Stephen who held a sign saying "Kyle Rene." I figured, since I knew 50% of the people represented on that sign, it must apply to me, and so I approached the man, shook his hand vigorously, and asked him if he was indeed the person who was supposed to meet me here. He said yes. Woohoo! So, in typical wonderful African hospitality, I was taken from the airport, showered, fed, hosted, and generally well loved until the next morning, when I was taken back to the airport to get my flight to Abuja, and from there, a car ride to Rene's camp in a town called Gombe.
Unfortunately, I missed my flight to Abuja. Two things caused this: 1) me having my clock an hour behind (I gained a time zone coming to Nigeria) and 2) African punctuality (or lack thereof). Stephen, my main man, came into my room at what I thought was 5:30am, and told me to get ready to go to the airport for my 6:50am flight. No problem, right? Except that it was 6:30 and I had twenty minutes to catch my flight! So it wasn't until I was being driven out onto the tarmac, watching my plane's outside door being closed and sealed, that I glanced at the clock on the car I was in and realized I was indeed an hour behind. Grrrr.
So, trying to keep my breathing pattern normal, I hurried back into the airport and went to the airline desk.
"Uh, sir?" I accosted the disinterested airline official. "I just missed my flight and need to get to Abuja. What do I do?"
The man gestured at the ticket window. "Go buy a new ticket. Plenty of airlines have flights to Abuja today."
"I don't have any Naira. Is there any way you can just put me on a new flight?" I gave him my best pathetic-white-dude look and smiled beseechingly.
"Go talk to the people at the counter," he said.
I thanked him and walked over to the ticket counter. There were three large Nigerian women behind the glass.
"Good morning, ladies-- I just missed my flight to Abuja and I was wondering if there's any way I can get on a new flight this morning."
I tried to look cute. They all looked at each other.
"Bellview Airlines only has one flight a day. You can come back tomorrow morning and catch the early flight," one woman said.
"I need to get to Abuja today though-- are there any other flights?" I asked.
"Why do you need to get to Abuja today?" one asked.
"I'm proposing to my girlfriend." I smiled winningly and gave her bambi eyes. They all laughed and clapped.
"Well-- in that case, paying 14,000 Naira for a new ticket shouldn't be a problem, right? Anything for a proposal!" the woman said.
"But ma'am," I said, "I don't have any Naira! Do you guys take credit cards?"
They shook their heads.
"Is there any way you can help me?" I pleaded.
They all looked at each other, again. The one on the right typed a few things in her computer and printed off a receipt. "Here--" she said, "Take this money and go buy a ticket on the Afrijet flight at 8:15." She refunded my ticket and handed me the cash.
I wanted to kiss her.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, all of you!"
I dashed over to the Afrijet counter, got a new ticket, and went to the gate to board my new plane. Sweet, sweet, Bellview Airlines employees!
Arriving in Abuja, I was met by two Nigerian guys-- Victor and Shammah. They told me that they had been informed of the grand plan, and had been commissioned by Kari and co. to escort me out to Rene's camp in Gombe. Shammah even had a video camera, and told me he was going to take lots of film "to make the engagement even more special." Great idea. We all piled into Victor's van and drove the nine hours to Gombe.
We got there after dark due to the looooong drive, and had a quick team meeting. I had wanted a) to have some kind of campfire to invite Rene to and b) to have a chance to shower, change, and look presentable after 24 hrs of continuous travel. Neither seemed to be feasible, due to three hours of torrential rain and the location of Rene's camp being at a local school. So, I threw on a collared shirt, hastily applied some Old Spice in the back of the van, and told the guys I was ready.
Prepping the big surprise, we found a spare classroom that was a little ways away from the rest of camp and arrayed our flashlights around the room in order to provide a sufficient amount of light for the video camera. I grabbed my guitar, checked to be sure it was in tune, and positioned myself with my back to the door. One of the camp staff went and got Rene and told her to come because "a camper was crying and needed to talk to her." [it should be well noted that I was dead to the world asleep when I was retrieved. Thus the ensuing scene seemed more dreamlike and trippy than most of my dreams]
We waited a few minutes. I fiddled with my guitar. Agony.
I heard her feet, shuffling across the floor behind me, my heart leaped into my throat, and then:

"No freaking way."

I turned slightly, to see Rene: hair askew, eyes squinted, staring at me, smiling, shaking her head slowly back and forth.
"Are you kidding me?" she asked rhetorically, still staring. [all I could think was, "God, if this is a dream, I'm going to be very angry with you!]
I smiled back and told her to have a seat on the bench in front of me. She sat down slowly, still shaking her head. I took a deep breath and proceeded to play our favorite song, the song we were both singing when we first met: "In Christ Alone." I strummed and sang the first and last verses, and then pulled out a letter I had written to her and read it. I told her I loved her [we had purposely never said these words to each other throughout our relationship] and asked her to marry me.
And guess what? She said yes!

Duh-duh-daa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[who knows what my answer would have been had I not been in a sleepy stupor:)]
[though the setting lacked the traditional scenic view and delectible meal, it was all to appropriate seeing as we met at camp]

[Also, noteworthy...a few nights before I had a dream that Andrew came early to Nigeria to surprise me. Except, in the dream, despite everyone's expectations, he never got around to proposing, leaving me to wake up with all this angst about his visit. God and I had some words that morning. When I shared this with Andrew he said, "So my real self is cooler than my dream self!" Yes...and it was cool how the Lord calmed and prepared my heart for his visit.]

SO YEAH
So, turns out we're engaged! Rene and I had a wonderful week in Nigeria together--beginning with a celebration there in Gombe[see above picture], visiting with her friends, seeing the work that she's involved with, walking through the Jos market, eating meat pies, going on a safari (sans animals, phooey), playing ultimate frisbee with the horde of missionaries that live in the city. [I, Rene, had of course had a full itinerary already made out for May so frantically tried to refit it into these few days] [Included was a little engagement party where they honored us and showed some of the footage from the proposal. Definitely one of the most awkward moments of mine and Andrew's life thus far, but the thoughtfulness was appreciated.] It was a joyous week, if painfully short. It looks like we'll be having the wedding early next summer [early June], after we both get back from Africa [René in October 2009, Andrew February 2010].

Should be a blast, so go ahead and plan on coming!! And as always, see my web album for more pictures. Thanks for sharing in our joy!

May the wonders of our Lord never cease!

my new son

Last month, I spent a couple nights dashing to and from the hospital with Shammah and Ketuah, eagerly anticipating the arrival of their first child. You know in the movies when the pregnant woman gets that look on her face and everyone goes into panic mode rushing the lady to the hospital? Well, it was nothing like that. I received a very calm phone call from Shammah saying, “Yes, sister René, could you come to the house by 7? Ketuah is feeling some different movings and I think we need to visit the hospital...” (side note: Shammah and Ketuah, like many Nigerians, don’t own a car and live a bit of a hike off the main road. Plus, due to the 7pm curfew on motorbikes, their main mode of transportation, they didn’t have the freedom to move.) I cancel the game night about to be hosted at my house, jump into my car, and zip over to their place. Do I find a panic-stricken fat lady and her anxiety-ridden husband? No. They are just as calm as can be and Ketuah even refused to let me carry her bag to the car. As I squeeze my Toyota 4-runner (on loan from a fellow missionary) through the cinder block neighborhood and then past 4 military-controlled check-points (still in place 5 months after the crisis), I’m thinking, “How exciting to be on the front row for this momentous event in their lives!” I missed out on being present when my brother and his wife had their first child (though Ali’s picture-taking/sharing obsession ensures I know what my niece looks like nearly weekly), but perhaps I can be a part of my Nigerian brother, Shammah, and his wife’s first birth. What would have been REALLY cool was if I insert a picture here of Ketuah giving birth in my car...instead, for two nights in a row we made these trips to the hospital with nothing to show for it. S & K ended up sleeping in my bed (knowing that the military dudes might try to extract a bribe for letting me pass, albeit with a legitimate excuse, after the 9pm vehicle curfew, I opted to avoid that unpleasant situation). Each ensuing night I expected to get another call, but none came. Fast forward a couple weeks...

While I was off in Obudu, little baby Shammah decided to make his grand entrance into the world. Since I was out of town, Shammah looked at his wife at 2 am when she expressed the need to go the hospital and said, “Well, do you think you can manage to climb on the back of the bike?” I don’t know about you, but I can think of better times in life to ride a motorcycle than when I’m going into labor! Like I’ve said before, Africans are incredibly resilient and Ketuah said it would be no problem. In retelling the story Shammah said, “Sure, it was fun, somehow!”

Naturally, I was bummed I couldn’t be part of the actual delivery but heartedly congratulated Shammah when I returned and heard the news. “So what is his name!?” I asked. “Not yet.” Was Shammah’s reply. I thought that was a pretty funny name until I remembered that Nigerians typically wait for a naming ceremony before revealing the baby’s name. With a twinkle in his eye Shammah said, “We’re not going to have a ceremony, but we’ll announce it on Sunday.”
Meet Reborn Marshall Shammah.

Yes, that’s his name. Now, some of you may not be aware of what my name means. René = “reborn” in French (think renaissance) and Marshall = “leader” somewhere in its etymology. SOO...THEY NAMED THEIR FIRSTBORN AFTER ME!!!

I cannot tell you how honored I am for this gesture. They said they had decided they would name their first child after me sometime last year, secretly hoping it would be a girl (contrary to societal pressures to have a boy first) so they could name her René. Ketuah explained that being a leader means being a servant and they saw this exhibited most poignantly the night I gave up my room for them. Plus, now that they’ve met my sister, Kari, they felt like honoring my dad (who is late) by giving his name to their son. Tonight as I visited Shammah, Ketuah, and RebornMarshall, they told me that he is my son too, since he bears my name. Their prayer is that he’ll grow up fully embodying his name and following in the footsteps of his namesake. Even though I’ll only be around (definitely) for the first few months of his life, they plan to tell stories of his “Auntie René” and the impact she had here in Nigeria. My eyes were brimming with tears, my smile spreading all over my face, and my heart overwhelmed with joy in hearing this. No award I have ever received comes close to honoring me the way Shammah and Ketuah did tonight. So much more could be said, but I think you have a sense of the profundity of this moment for me.

“Ina da farin ciki da murna da tawali” = I’m joyful, happy, and humbled.”

ObUdU

Here's to another post documenting a stellar African vacation adventure. Whatever credibility my "travel agency" lost in the wahala-filled journey to Ghana, it has been redeemed with this latest journey to Obudu, Nigeria. Obudu is located 8 hrs from Jos, in the southwestern end of the country, within viewing distance of Cameroon. After hearing nothing negative, except the length of the drive (a mere blink in comparison with our 3-day road trek to Ghana), I made arrangements and gathered other cool, single folk to join the fun. For 5 days, 4 nights, our team of 12 stormed Obudu Cattle Ranch, waterpark, village and surrounding mountains. Check it out:

Incredible water park at the bottom of the mountain. Complete with high dive, low dive, short wave waterslide, long, winding waterslide, jets, olympic-sized lap lanes, and all to our rule-breaking selves!!

Another sweet African canopy walk. Not as extensive as Ghana, but had some really sweet jungle scenery, a baby chameleon, and a tree fort (ok, so they didn't call it a fort. I think it was actually a bird-watch tower, but that sounds too lame:) My favorite foliage was the "testicle tree." I kid you not.
Any quality vacation involves a physical challenge...at least in my book. So one day we asked our local friend "Godsgift", to lead us on a little hike to a sweet waterfall. This was not for the faint of heart, let me tell you. Someone needs to introduce switchbacks to Nigerians, but other than that, it was INCREDIBLE! I couldn't believe all this gorgeous scenery and creation was in Nigeria. Despite how disgusting and sore we were at the end, it was the highlight of the trip for me. (made me miss the AT a bit)
(have I mentioned how much I love sharing this special chapter of my life with my sister?)
As you can see, we had a blast. There are oodles more stories to tell about cable car rides, banana/yogurt over-dosing, and speed-uno games, but I'll let you peruse my web album for that.And hey, next time you're in Nigeria or Cameroon, check out ol' Obudu.
TEAM BANANA!
Back row: [An]Drew, Dana, Micah, me, Marc
Front Row: Joseph, Emmanuel, Emily, Niffer, Kari, Lisa